


lay your weary head

by hokseok



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, previously titled 'am i really that comfortable?'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 00:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokseok/pseuds/hokseok
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was asleep on Thomas Jefferson's shoulder.





	

Alexander Hamilton was asleep on Thomas Jefferson's shoulder. He, after staying awake studying like normal, had promptly passed out, slumping against Jefferson's side. He wanted to shove him off and yell at him, though, for some strange reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Maybe it was because of the way he snored slightly, which shouldn’t be adorable, but really was. Maybe it was because Thomas could see the lines of worry leave his face, which he had never seen before; he felt like he was seeing a completely different person, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. Or, maybe, it was because Alexander was pressed against him, had fallen asleep on him, instead of anyone else.

‘Damn it, Thomas,’ He thinks. ‘It’s not like he picked to fall asleep on you! The damn thing just passed out. Hurry up and shove him off!’

And he really wanted to. He could quite easily shove him off and get up and leave, pretending nothing had happened.

But, as you’d expect, he doesn’t. He tried to pay attention to the teacher again, though he lasted about thirty seconds before he was distracted. Alexander had shifted, now, even though he could barely reach, burying his face in the crook of Thomas’ neck.

A light blush spread across Thomas’ face; he ignored it.

Alexander woke up a few minutes later, snorting slightly as his head slipped off the hand that propped it up. His hair was significantly more messed up than it had been before his nap, though he hadn’t even moved around that much. He wiped the drool that had started down his chin, quickly glancing around to make sure no one had realised he was asleep.

He didn’t speak to Jefferson. Instead, he acted like he hadn’t just been using him as a pillow, and Thomas believed that he really hadn’t realised. It would explain why Alexander had spun around, glaring at him and hissing, “What the Hell are you looking at?”

Thomas shrugged and turned away, hiding the disappointment blooming in his chest. Why did he always have to pine for the ones who hated him?

 

* * *

Alexander Hamilton had fallen asleep on Thomas Jefferson' shoulder. Now, this wouldn’t be too bad (Oh, who was he kidding, it would always be bad; Thomas hated him.) if he hadn’t:

Firstly, pretended like nothing had happened, then spent the class ignoring the looks Thomas kept sending him, his heart thumping in his chest a mile a minute, only just managing to stop his hands from shaking. Despite what people may say, Alexander didn’t deal with confrontation well. It's more about personal confrontation; Alexander would gladly fight anyone about politics, or even something as insignificant as what coffee brands were best, but as soon as it turned personal, as soon as the “ _LGBT+ deserve basic rights, just as everybody does_!” turns into “ _Did you clean up the fucking dishes I asked you to do?_ ” then a problem occurs.

Secondly, it wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t half in love with the idiot. Yeah, so the secrets out. He had only told Lafayette, but even then, he hadn’t really shared it voluntarily. Lafayette had said something about “being French,” and being able to “sense when love is in the air,” and had forced Alexander to come clean. So he had, and regretted it as every time Jefferson walked in the room, since Lafayette would look at him and wink, and every time he tried to complain about that asshole always debating him on everything, even if there was nothing wrong with what Alexander had said, Lafayette would shoot him a knowing look, wearing a smirk that Alexander hated.

So, now that we have established that Alexander had purposely ignored Thomas, once he had woken up from a nap he had taken on his shoulder, and was hardcore pining for the guy who hated him, you can see his issue.

He woke up at seven in the morning, having slept for two hours, which was somehow less than normal, making a coffee as he threw on random clothes which were dotted around his room. His roommate, a guy called Hercules who he was actually pretty close with, was barely ever home, spending most of his time with his boyfriend. Alexander had been trying to get details from him for months, but he still hadn’t managed to discover anything.

Once dressed, washed, and full of energy, he left his dorm room, following his usual routine: head to the library for however long he had to spare, read a book or two, revise for a while, annoy his friends once they finally woke up, and maybe doodle a little bit on a scrap piece of paper if he was feeling particularly bored that day, though that was rare, and he usually just tended to study.

And today, on the one day he actually wanted to be left alone, on the one day he wanted to shove his head down and revise and ignore the world, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas _motherfucking_ Jefferson, bursts in, plonking his books down on an opposing table, wiping the sleep from his eyes, not paying any attention to his surroundings.

They were the only two in the room after the librarian, who really didn’t give a crap, had gone for a bathroom break half an hour ago and still hadn’t come back.

Alexander, again, pretended not to notice, pretended like he hadn’t been staring at the sleepy Thomas who looked like he had pulled an all-nighter and hadn’t even given himself any coffee to survive on.

A weird feeling spread across his stomach, something that could be mistaken for caring; he ignored it.

“Hamilton.” Thomas greeted, last names as always. His tone was, for once, kind and polite, like he couldn’t even be bothered with an insult. When Alexander just stared back, mouth open, he continued with, “What? Don’t have a witty retort?”

He just shook his head, going back to his book. He wasn’t in the mood either. He shrugged again, leaning forward in his chair, going back to his work.

“The one time I try to start a nice conversation, this is what I get?” Thomas muttered, and Alexander isn’t sure whether he was supposed to hear.

“Well, sorry,” He snapped before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry that I can’t deal with your bullshit for one fucking day, alright? Is it that much of a crime that I won’t indulge you when I’m feeling as crap as you look?”

Thomas looked up at him, staring for a few seconds before looking back down at his book which hadn’t even been opened yet. A dejected look covered his face, and Thomas didn't even bother to hide it.

Alexander slammed the door behind him, storming out of the library. He didn't even know why he was angry. Was it because Thomas was being polite? Being weird? Was it because the asshole had interrupted the study session?

He entered the bathroom where the library teacher supposedly was, grabbing his phone and calling Eliza, after checking that the toilets were empty. He always consulted with Eliza, and occasionally her sisters, when he had relationship problems, which was rare as Alexander didn't develop crushes often (Aside from Jefferson, of course.)

“Hello!” Eliza chirped down the phone, ignoring the fact it was nine in the morning and that Alexander had clearly woken her up. He apologised and she shook it off, smiling down the phone.

“It's fine, Alex.” She said, then sighed. “I think I woke my sister up, though.”

“What he's calling for better be damn important.”

“Alright, so…” He didn't know how to continue. “So, metaphorically, if I liked this guy who hated me, and I fell asleep on his shoulder, what would I do?”

“Holy shit!” Alexander heard Angelica yell. “He confessed about liking Jefferson!”

“What, no!” Alexander spluttered. “Who said anything about Jefferson?”

“I know a lot of people hate you, but it really isn't easy to narrow it down. Of course, you like him! I mean, we all see the way your eyes light up when he enters the room.”

“That's because I like having someone to debate with who isn't an utter moron!”

“Aww, he doesn't think Jefferson's a moron.” Angelica teased.

“That's an improvement.” Eliza agreed.

“Okay, fine, so now that we've established that I like him, what do I do?”

“Wait, you're actually admitting it?” Angelica asked, sounding as shocked as Alexander felt.

“Yes. Now please, help me.”

“Walk up to him and kiss him,” Eliza said, and Alexander heard Angelica’s hum of agreement. “He likes you. He looks at you the same way you look at him. So, you walk up to him, kiss him, confess your undying lo--”

“Woah!” Alexander bosses. “We are not at that stage. And anyways, he hates me, why would be like me?”

“You sound so hypocritical right now. I think Angelica might just cry.”

“Right, right…” He said. “Do you really think it would work?”

“Of course! Alexander, you go get your man. If it goes wrong, which I'm sure it won't, I'll invite everyone over for ice cream and vodka, and we can all drown our sympathies together.”

“Sounds great, Eliza. Thanks for the encouragement.”

So he stepped out of the bathrooms, taking a deep breath, reentering the library, sighing with relief when he realised no one, except Thomas, was there.

Thomas looked up once the door opened, though quickly continued searching for the book he was looking for. Alexander made a mental plan. Walk up to him and kiss him? Talk to him first? No! That wouldn't go well. Just kiss him and make sure you kiss him enough so that he won't talk to you afterwards so then you ignore all of the awkward conversations.

Yes, this wasn't going to go well. He was about to turn and leave again but decided against it. He knew he'd regret it later if he did that, and forced himself to take a few more steps forward.

Thomas glanced at him again, frowning when he realised Alexander was less than a meter away.

“What do you want?” Thomas asked, curious and untrusting. Alexander sighed, hating the tone of voice. He shut him up with a kiss. He grabbed his collar, pulling him closer, tangling a hand in his head, probably messing it up but Thomas could deal with that later.

Thomas had kissed back almost immediately, and Alexander reminded himself to thank the Schuyler sisters.

“You care to tell me what this is about?” Thomas asked, breathless, resting his head on Alexander’s forehead.

Alexander looked up, inhaling slightly before saying, “Nope.” Then reconnecting their lips again.

“ _Mon ami_!” A voice shouted, making Alexander and Thomas jump apart. “I have been searching for you! I guess you were otherwise occupied, though. I apologise for interrupting; I will leave you to it.” Lafayette shot the pair a knowing wink, and left quicker than he had arrived.

“God, I hate him sometimes.” The pair said in unison, then turned to look at each other.

“Oh, yeah, so I like you. Date me?” Alexander said, and Thomas huffed out a laugh.

“Only you could make such an awkward date proposal after we had just made out for nearly five minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> updated, september 2018 (copied & pasted): it's ben/jay! i'm here to say you can find me on tumblr @4prom (though my url changes regularly, so check my ao3 profile for updates). thank you so much for reading, and (hopefully) enjoying. feel free to send me a message!
> 
> extra note: we all know alexander and thomas would have been the opposite sides of the room. no one would, in their right mind, put them together.


End file.
